Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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The sound of Duck’s personal home shredder cut through the kitchen like the blades themselves were ripping through the air. Yellow sat at the table, legs swinging merrily underneath, nipping at some garishly colored construction paper with a pair of scissors. Muted crimson blood could still be seen stained into the blade from that time he cut his own finger off to test if he was dead. Red sat beside him, elbow propping up his head, picking haphazardly at some lazy dinner he wasn’t in the mood to eat (when it’d probably just come back out when a teacher made him vomit chunks of his own insides or something at some point today’) he thought to himself.

Duck, as per usual, was standing above his shredder, giggling menacingly, shredding anything in sight. Bills, scrap paper, Yellow’s drawings- Red was sure he might have even heard one of those sentient pieces of bread scream as it was cut into thin strips, a common victim of Duck’s sociopathic shredding rage.

Eventually, the shredder ticked off as Duck was satisfied for the evening, leaving a ringing in everyone’s ears in the absence of the loud noise. “Ah,” Duck sighed contentedly, “nothing like a good shredding to end the day right!”

Red snorted in mockery, red string billowing out in front of him. Duck waddled over to the table, resuming his ‘dinner’ of homemade curry. The three sat in silence for a moment as if they hadn’t been tormented with singing inanimate objects teaching them fucked up lessons all day. They looked like an idyllic little family.

“Oh yeah, I just remembered,” Red piped up, glad for a reason to push away his half- eaten meal. Catching the attention of the other two, he walked over to some cupboards and used his immense height to pull down something from the top of them. “I have something I want to shred, too.”

In his mitten- hands were some dusty looking pieces of mail.
“What’s that?” Yellow questioned innocently, pieces of paper stuck to the side of his face somehow.

“It’s a check from Petersons and Friends and Co. Bits and Parts Limited,” Red explained. “And I’d rather forget about that whole… situation.” He strode over to the shredder- a couple mere steps for him was a hike for either of the other two- and ripped open the envelope. ‘200,000,000.00 addressed to Red H. Guy, CEO of Petersons and Friends and Co. Bits and Parts Limited’, the check read. “Well,” Red positioned it at the opening of the shredder, oblivious to the check’s value, “goodbye forever, useless piece of junk!”

He stuck it in, only for the check to flop sideways as it sat in the top of the shredder, considerably un- shredded for what Red was trying to accomplish. “H… Hello?” Red asked the object, poking it with his mitted finger. Nothing happened a second time.

“Awh, why is it not shredding?” Yellow complained, shoulders drooping.

“Heh, probably because my loyal shredder only respects my shredding decisions!” Duck guffawed. “Good shredder!” He barked at it from across the room, probably oblivious to the fact that the shredder did not hear it, and couldn’t actually be loyal to Duck, for that matter.

“Ugh, there’s probably something wrong with it,” Red groaned as he started fumbling with some of the buttons and knobs on the top.

“Eh? Nonsense, I take good care of my shredder, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” Yellow agreed as he flashed a big smile.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Duck sneered.

“Wh… who were you asking?”

“The shredder, obviously! Only it knows how well I treat it.”

“B-but… I don’t think the shredder can…” Yellow trailed off upon getting a sideways glance from Duck.

“Go on, don’t think it can what?”

“...mmmnothing.”

“Aha!” Red exclaimed, Duck and Yellow snapping their attention back to him. He held up a black cord in his hand. “I think it’s unplugged. You must’ve accidentally pulled the cord from the wall.”

“Nonsense! I don’t make accidents, I’ve never done that in my life!”

“Ooh, I was an accident! My dad told me that!”

Duck and Red went silent as they turned to slowly look at the Yellow one, brimming with a smile that showed he had no idea what that meant.

“Anyways…” Red ignored the concerning comments about Yellow’s father (which they often did but probably shouldn’t,) and turned his attention back to his task. His yarn swayed over the top of the shredder as he reached over to follow the cord. Sure enough, it was detached from the wall on the far side. “There we are,” he muttered quietly, grabbing the end with one hand. Unaware of the status of his hair- the front of which was perched perfectly above the gaping mouth of the always- hungry shredder- he stuck the end of the cord into the wall.
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Yank.

“Urk-!”

Red felt his head lurch downwards forcefully as the shredder booted up. Confused, he pulled himself back up, only to realize how he was completely caught in its vice-like grip.

“Ah-!” Red felt a surge of panic rise up in his chest, as he felt himself creep closer to the mouth of the shredder, violently turning against him.

“Wha-” Duck started, pushing up from his seat and briskly walking over. “Hey, bad shredder!” He scolded with a feathered finger.

“That’s not going to do anything!” Red yelled, hands grasping the sides of the shredder and tugging against it, to no avail. His eyes widened with dismay as he saw his own red yarn on the other side of the shredder, torn to a pulp. Just like his face would be, he thought uneasily.

“Well, what do you want me to do?!”

“Fuckin’ HELP ME MAYBE?!” Red screamed, gums hit with the sensation of fresh cold air as the shredder ate up and up his hair like sucking something through a straw. It was almost up to his would- be nose now. He was going to have his face shredded. He’d probably bleed out and die just to come back the next day. And it wasn’t even because of a teacher, it was just his own stupidity.

Yellow tensed up at the scene, trying to think. “You guys could-”

“DON’T YELL AT ME!” Duck screamed at Red, his panic wearing off on him.

“Hey, you guys can-”

“Those!” Duck gasped, whirling towards Yellow. He stomped over, Red still on his knees yelling and trying to pry the attacking shredder off. Duck reached up on the table and snatched the pair of scissors from Yellow’s hands without any resistance.

Without a word, he almost ran back to Red. Red’s eyes were focused on the shredder, practically staring down his own demise. He was going to be fucking chewed to shreds in this stupid thing. And he’d be a bloody mess all over the kitchen floor, left to bleed slowly from his face, seeing nothing but his own tangled hair and mangled flesh-

Snip.

The pressure released, and Red instinctively pulled back hard, so hard in fact his whole body flew backwards and he hit the ground with a dull thud.

The ceiling flew in dizzying colors far above his face- far further from him than it usually was. His heart was beating in his throat, and all he could do was breathe and try to swallow it back into his chest. After a moment, he tried regaining himself, pushing himself up to his knees and putting a hand on his face to see if he was okay.

…

Oh, shit.

His face wasn’t mangled. It wasn’t bloodied, it wasn’t even nipped by the shredder.

But it was… exposed.

His hand went directly to his teeth, where there was usually yarn in the way. His quickened heartbeat came back.

“No… no no no no no NO-!” He muttered to himself, gasping. He could feel his own mouth move with his words.

He hated his mouth. The snarling, nasty teeth that scared people whenever he just said hello. The way he could feel a breeze against his bare gums. The look… the look he got whenever his yarn brushed out of his face in just the right way so he was exposed to people. He had never shown Duck and Yellow, and had never been unfortunate enough to let it slip through the cracks.

But now, with his yarn cut short from Duck’s hasty thinking, Red’s mouth was left on full display, though covered now by both of his mitted hands.

Yellow and Duck stood lifelessly still, watching Red fight back tears as he stood up, unsure of what emotion to feel or how to show it.

He stared down Duck, scissors in hand, his own hair torn in his stupid, stupid shredder, and chose anger. “What the hell did you do to me?!” He shouted, yarn no longer flying out in front of his mouth when he spoke, as there was no yarn to do so with.

“Eh?!” Duck crowed indignantly. “What do you mean? I saved your bloody face from being mangled, you dumb oaf! How about a ‘thank you’?”

“You could’ve done something else!”

“Oh, like what?!”

“You could’ve unplugged the shredder.” Yellow piped up, eyes wandering between the other two. “That’s what I was t-trying to say.”

An awkward silence fell upon the room.

Red squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. He became nauseated at the light feeling on his head, unweighted by the hair in the front. “No no no no no no…” he muttered constantly. Looking up, hot tears falling from his eyes, he met the impatient gaze of Duck and the innocently concerned look of Yellow.

“Stop looking at me!” He yelled, hands in front of his face. He suddenly felt the need to escape, to be on his own. He walked from the room, nearly running with his long strides, brushing open the door with his face angled away so no one could see.

“What’s gone wrong with that one?” Duck huffed rhetorically, though Yellow swore he heard some tinge of worry in his voice.

Chapter Text

Red flung open the door to the bathroom, nearly coming off its flimsy hinges at the strongest of the three’s panic. He looked at himself in the mirror only to reveal what he was completely dreading. His hands gripped the sides of the sink as he stared down his own face, teeth and mouth just as ugly as he remembered them. His hair was a jagged line just below his eyes, like an awful pair of bangs. He was just as disgusting as every time he had to catch a glimpse of them when he brushed his teeth. His hot breath fogged up the mirror, mouth slightly ajar to show off his three tongues posed complacently inside, never in use. Why…? Why was he like this? Why did he have to be so hideous under all that hair? And why did it have to be like this, to where it was on full display? What would the others think? Stupid, stupid world giving him this stupid face. Red wished he had just gotten caught in the shredder. Maybe it could’ve permanently shredded off his horrid face.

He didn’t notice he was crying until his vision blurred, fat tears splattering on his felt and sinking in. He couldn’t stop letting out a sob, breaking his own gaze and pressing his back to the wall. He let his knees give in, back sliding down the wall until his face was buried in his knees and he was fully trembling with heaving sobs.

He hated himself, he hated the way he looked. (No, mom, this does not reflect me or how I feel about myself. (She reads my fanfictions.)) He sobbed openly into his knees, paying full attention to the way his mouth moved, unable to ignore it. And if he only didn’t make that one stupid mistake. Maybe he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation in the first place. Everything was wrong, and it was all his fault that he brought it upon himself.

Red’s shoulders shook as he cried for God knows how long. He only caught his next sob in his throat as he heard a knock on the door, followed by a muffled “...idiot, don’t knock, that gives him a chance to hide! Just announce it, like this.” Then a much louder announcement of “we’re coming in!”

Red brought his hands to hide his face just as the door opened suddenly, abused now by both Red and Duck. Duck stood with a fake air of triumphance, Yellow standing shyly behind him.

“Hi,” Yellow said quietly.

“We have arrived, you’re welcome,” Duck stood with his hands on his hips. He looked across the room to see Red sitting on the floor, now at his eye level. He looked completely disheveled, face tucked into his knees and hands, eyes practically as red as the rest of him and watering. “Ugh, you’re a mess…” Duck claimed, not without any empathy.

He strode over to Red, who was looking straight at him, expression completely blank as usual but with his body language completely off. Yellow trotted along behind, peeking out from behind Duck and analyzing Red.

“What’s gone wrong with you?” Duck asked in his sassy tone. “I saved your life and now you’ve gone all upset anyways! And you clogged up my shredder with all your ridiculous hair!”

Red broke Duck’s gaze, eyes trailing down to the floor.

“Please…” his voice was hoarse and cracked when he spoke, “leave me alone. Please.” He whispered the last word.

“Urgh, what’s gotten into you? We’re not leaving, not until we fix the utter disaster that is you right now.”

“Yeah. Y-you’re all broken, and we wanna help.” Yellow offered a dopey smile.

“Hmph. Maybe you do. I’m only here because someone needs to cook lunch for us, and that someone is currently all on-the-floor and not in a good cooking state of mind. And because I’m the best one, and the best one should help the less- best ones be better. Now come on, up and off the floor. And take your hands away from your face, it’s bad manners to do that when someone is trying to talk to you.”

Red shook his head slowly. “No.”

“Eh?! Don’t ‘no’ me, now come on!”

“No no no NO! You don’t get it, do you?!” He whisper shouted, looking up at his two clueless friends again.

“I’m hideous under my yarn. Why do you think you’ve never seen it? Because it’s disgusting, my face. I’m disgusting. I’m… a monster.”

The three stood in silence for a minute as Red started crying again. But Red was startled when Duck stuck his feathered hands out in front of him, outstretched towards Red. “Hands.” He demanded, like it was perfectly obvious what he meant.

“W-what?” Red stammered through tears.

“Hands. Your hands. Give me them.”

“Y-you… you can’t be ser-”

“Now.” Duck said with a commanding tone that Red hadn’t ever heard out of him before. “Nobody talks to the tied- for- second- best one like that. Including himself.”

Yellow smiled at the indirect compliment.

“Now, hands. I won’t be having all this negative self- talk.”

Red’s eyes shifted. The most stubborn of the three wasn’t going anywhere, hands obstinately outstretched right in front of him. Red pushed his knees down, and ever so gently released his hands from his face, cool air hitting him like a smack in the face. He reached out and placed his felt hands in Duck’s wings. Their stares felt hot- or maybe it was just the blush creeping into his cheeks. He breathed a few shaky breaths before looking up to see the inevitably terrible reactions his friend- clump- thing would have.

They were perfectly still, Duck’s eyes widened as far as they could go and Yellow’s mouth slightly agape, both transfixed on Red’s mouth. At any moment, they’d scream, they’d run, they’d call him a freak and-

“That’s it?”

“...What?”

Duck’s eyes were latched onto Red’s all of a sudden. “That’s it? That’s what you’re so afraid to show us?”

“Y…you don’t think it’s ugly, or scary, or…?”

“No, of course not!”

“We’ve seen much scarier things,” Yellow commented. “Like when my dad ate those people alive at the other’s house!”

Duck and Red gave him another look. Seriously, they needed to talk to this kid. “Well, as dumb as that one is, he’s right,” Duck said as he cleared his throat, ignoring the Yellow one again. “We have seen much more disturbing things. That…” he gestured with his head to Red, “isn’t that scary. And besides, you’re just the same big bumbling oaf you were before.” It was not lost on Red that Duck was gently stroking Red’s knuckles with his fingers.

Red wanted to take his hands back, to cover up his face, to have his yarn back in its comforting weight over his face. But…

“...Really?”

“Yeah, really!” Yellow threw his arms up. “You’re our bestest friend, big scary mouth or not!”

Red’s blush deepened. “I don’t know… I still really don’t like it. People are always scared of me because of it.”

“What people?”

“Yeah, if they don’t like you then they just don’t get it. We do though, so don’t worry about other people and what they think.”

“Ooh!” Yellow bounced a little. “I have an idea!” He wandered over to the sink, grabbing a step stool from underneath and hopping up to open the cabinet in the mirror. He pulled out a hairbrush (since when did they have one of those?) and some red hair ties from his ‘adventures’ at Lily and Todney’s house. “We can make your hair all pretty! Then you’d feel like- like you look better, and so then you feel better too!”

Duck released Red’s hands (to Red’s silent dismay, they were quite warm and soft,) in order to put them on his hips. “Hm. I might never say this again, but this one keeps saying smart things today.” Red swore he smirked. “Now, come on,” Duck urged. To Red’s surprise, Duck cupped Red’s face in his, feathered thumbs running their way against his cheeks and wiping away some stray tears like a mother to her child. “Don’t cry anymore. It’s not anything you need to cry about, you’re okay.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft, and Red felt the ache in his heart subside a little. “C’mon, up up,” he got back into himself, attempting to pull Red up by the shoulders.

Red was pulled upwards and all the way downstairs by an excited Yellow, where he was sat down in his chair in the living room and the stepstool was placed behind it so Yellow and Duck could clamor up for prime hair access. Red sat uncomfortably at first, but at least nobody was staring down his face. And it felt nice, after a while- especially whenever he felt Duck’s well- groomed feathers brush across him. Yellow was a little janky and clumsy, but in a somewhat endearing way? Red guessed? He wasn’t used to being touched in a way that didn’t involve some sort of harm, so it wasn’t a completely unpleasant experience. They bickered over how to do his hair for a while (the whole time), and Red even found himself giggling at their antics (only to earn an “oh, shut up, big red one!” from Duck).

They settled on braids, tying two dutch braids done by one of each, tying it off with the red scrunchies at the ends. Way too many clips and bows were thrown into Yellow’s side, while Duck’s was only speckled with some well- placed accessories. When they held up a mirror for Red to see, it was hilarious to see the difference between Duck’s well- made side, looking like it was done professionally, against Yellow’s sloppy braid with the strands all out of place. Duck was heavily critical of Yellow’s work, but Yellow seemed to ignore him in favor of waiting for Red’s reaction. But Red couldn’t say anything mean to Yellow’s giddy smile, so he told him he loved it. He loved seeing the kid’s smile stretch further and his eyes light up, so it was worth Duck’s indignant huffs.

“Grolton and Hovris is probably on by this point,” Duck commented after Red was sitting with his giant braids on his chair.

“Ooh ooh, I want hot cocoa while we watch!” Yellow flapped his hands excitedly.

“Ughhhhhhhhh… fiiiiine,” Duck dragged his words on as if it pained him to talk. “But only because I want some, too.” He bopped the top of Red’s head. “I’ll make some for you as well. Don’t start without me, you ungrateful rats!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Red and Yellow as he left to the kitchen.

Red rolled his eyes, flicking on the TV to Grolton and Hovris. (Did they even have any other stations…?) Yellow sat on the floor next to him, an oversized blanket thrown over his lap.

“Don’t you want to sit in your chair, mate?” Red asked. Yellow turned to look up at him. “No. I like it here.”

“Why?”

Yellow shrugged. “Closer to you.”

“Hm,” Red hummed. He waited a moment before sliding down onto the floor. He reached over and lifted Yellow right up off the floor quite effortlessly- a little too effortlessly, this kid got more concerning the more Red thought about it- and placed him in his lap. The blanket was draped across the both of them. Yellow squirmed at first, but settled down so that he was tucked in nicely against Red’s chest. Yellow simply smiled like a tiny puppy.

Soon enough, Duck walked back in with three cups of hot cocoa, caught off guard by the scene. “Wha- uh-” he stammered. “Really? Without me?”

“Sorry, mate,” Red chuckled. “Didn’t think you’d want in, but you can if you want.” He opened up his left arm invitationally.

“Hmph,” Duck looked away and Red thought he saw him blush, “I- I meant the TV. You started it without me.”

“Ah,” Red lowered his arm, “of course.”

“B-but…” Duck trailed off silently.

“Hm?” Red cocked a non- existent eyebrow.

Duck tapped his foot as if considering something before sighing. “Oh, move the hell over, Yellow one!” He squaked, sliding into Red’s embrace and doling out the cups.

Red hummed quietly as he accepted the hot cocoa, wrapping his right arm around the Yellow one to keep him from wiggling too much, and his left around the Duck. The young Yellow one was persistently pressed into Red’s side, always greedy for affection. But the Duck, usually too dignified for any such thing, was surprisingly cuddled into Red as well, already distracted by the TV. Red melted into the touch, resting his exposed face on the Duck’s head. He supposed he could do that now that his hair didn’t get in the Duck’s face. Hm. Red considered his situation. His fami- er, clump members, pressed into him, hot cocoa in his hand, braided hair tucked behind him.

“...I still like looking at you.” Duck nearly whispered, eyes still focused on the TV.

Red felt the blush return.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly pretty, but nothing in this world was, and no one seemed to mind.

Red smiled- a real monster mouth smile, teeth and all.

He fit in just fine.